Intermediate Studies in Unexpected Romanticism
by lil-anonymous-girl
Summary: Abed has a problem that he's mostly content to ignore, Annie is determined to find the solution, and Troy is not cool with... well any of it, for various reasons that begin and end with the fact that *he* is Abed's best friend, damn it. Eventual Troy/Abed.
1. Chapter 1

Author's notes: This is a fic that will, at some point, have a happy ending where Troy and Abed get together. Before that there will be pining, the rest of the ensemble, Annie and Abed being awesome as bros together, and a mockumentary style format, brought to you, in part, by a surplus of _Modern Family_.

Sadly, there will be no porn. (Not counting any possible mentions of it by Pierce.)

Many thanks to **cherrycoloured**, who I bounced ideas off of, and **Phoeny **(aka **Suzakusama** on ff . net), who patiently beta'd this thing. :)

Spoilers: There are, probably, references from the first three seasons of _Community_ present in this fic. Most of them come from seasons two and three but there might be a few from season one that I'm overlooking. The point is, **there are spoilers for the first three seasons of ****_Community_****. **

Disclaimer: I don't own _Community_ or any of its affiliations. I'm just playing in the sandbox Dan Harmon created.

* * *

_"It starts with a conversation. An awkward conversation."_

* * *

"Abed!" _Knock knock knock_. "Abed!" _Knock knock knock_. "Abe—"

"If you're attempting to pay homage to _The Big Bang Theory_, it would help if you weren't knocking on your own door," Abed points out, poking his head out of the blanket fort.

"I know! But knocking directly on the blanket fort isn't really a possibility," Annie explains.

"True," Abed agrees with a frown. "It pains me to admit this but the fabric isn't really a good hardwood substitute. ...Do you think I should get a door?"

"What?" Annie startles. "Abed, no! You don't need an actual door just to pay homage to a show!"

"Knocking on any hard surface is fine so long as you want to achieve a passable audio facsimile, but to anyone viewing the scenario from outside..." Abed mutters drifting into what Annie recognizes as 'Director mode'. "I think it would be best to get a door. How expensive are they? Or maybe I can borrow Troy's. Do you have a hammer and a screwdriver?"

"Abed! I wasn't trying to get you to steal Troy's door; I just thought you'd appreciate the reference!" Annie exclaims. Privately though, she's positive that Troy would let Abed take his door even if it is just so that they can mimic Sheldon's knock. She's not too sure _why_ since Troy doesn't care much for the actual show; he'll only watch it if Abed's watching it. She's also pretty sure Abed knows Troy doesn't really like _The Big Bang Theory_; nowadays he only watches it when Troy's not home.

"Oh, I do," Abed assures. "Thanks."

"Anyti—"

"Although in terms of sitcoms I prefer _Cougar Town_ and _Friends_. Don't get me wrong, _The Big Bang Theory _is reputable enough—six seasons is nothing to sneeze at and BNL sings their opening theme—"

"BNL!" Annie can't help interrupting to cheer because, you know, Barenaked Ladies. Abed raises his fist in agreement because, yeah, he knows, _Barenaked Ladies_.

"—but a lot of its humor is physics based, which I never really took a shine to."

"The humor?"

"No, the physics."

"I thought you still watched it when you could, though?" Annie questions because she's sure she's seen him watching it every now and again.

"Of course I do; it's a good show. But that doesn't mean I love it enough to go out and buy all five seasons on box set DVD."

"Aren't they on your birthday list?"

"Other people are always welcome to buy me things."

"I... see?" Annie ends up saying questioningly.

"Thought you would," Abed responds with a smile and a quick finger gun. That said, a sort of silence falls onto the two of them where Annie stares at Abed from just outside her room while Abed stares calmly back from just outside the blanket fort. It's not a bad sort of silence and Annie can't help smiling a little because it's fantastic that she has this; this friendship where you don't always need to talk to fill the silences. "Did you need something?" Abed asks eventually.

"Oh!" Annie exclaims as she remembers why she came to Abed in the first place. "Right. Abed," she says and then pauses to take a deep breath.

"This is gonna be good," Abed mumbles earnestly.

"We need to talk," Annie finishes determinedly. "Wait, what did you say?"

"I knew it," Abed says with a snap of his fingers. "Sorry Annie but could you hold that thought? This feels like a particularly critical moment or, at the very least, a moment rife with opportunity. I need my camera." And with that, he disappears into the blanket fort.

"Abed!" Annie gapes, staring at the fort entry with an affronted expression. "I...!" She blinks and then takes a calming breath moving her hands in a downward motion as she tries to gain back her control. "Okay," she says to herself. "This is... this is okay. I can have this discussion with Director Abed too."

"Glad you think that," Abed says with an excited smile, as he comes bursting out of the fort. "Because this talk feels like it's leading to something epic and this camera is going to follow that story every step of the way."

"Is it on right now?" Annie asks warily.

"No. The battery needs charging so in the interest of saving power, I'll need to start filming when you start talking about whatever it is we need to talk about," Abed says, frowning at the handheld device and its power limitations. "But if necessary, I guess we could always re-enact the conversation."

"This isn't really a scripted kind of thing," Annie frowns.

"You're right," Abed agrees. "The first take will be the most realistic, the most true. That's the kind of feeling I want for this film so try not to say anything too earth shattering or important until we're rolling," he advises sagely.

"If it's so important to you, why don't you start filming now?!" Annie says in frustration.

"Because you're not saying what needs to be said yet," Abed shrugs. "But when you do, I'll be sure to catch it all on film."

"Abe—"

"Wait, you're not dumping me are you?" Abed asks suddenly.

"What?" Annie says, thrown off by the question. "No! Abed, we're not even _dating_."

"Just checking. I didn't think we were, but according to TV, 'we need to talk' is a break up sentence—"

"It is, but we were _never together_. We can't break up!"

"We could, but it wouldn't make much sense. If two characters that were never actually romantically together terminated their relationship, the audience wouldn't care since there was nothing to emotionally invest in. At most they'd feel bewildered, at the least, indifferent. Also, you're a good friend of mine," Abed frowns. "It would suck to lose that."

"This is not me breaking up with you!"

"Good," Abed says. "Because a film like that is the equivalent of me filming paint dry and if I wanted to do an art film, I'd get Britta on my film crew. No, right now, I want to do another documentary."

"Well good for you but all _I _want? Is to talk!" Annie shouts.

"About what?" Abed asks calmly, as he sets the camera up on the table so that both he and Annie will be visible for the conversation. "And action!" he says under his breath, pressing the button. The camera starts recording.

* * *

**ABED NADIR – ASPIRING FILMMAKER**

"I had a lot of ideas as to what Annie wanted to talk about," Abed says frankly, sitting on the edge of his bed in the blanket fort. "I thought she'd found out about the time Troy and I used Mr. Fluffykins, her purple stuffed animal, as a baseball for three innings. Or maybe she'd found out about the hole in the drywall we covered up with her vanity desk. Maybe she realized that I was the one who used her toothpaste that one time and squeezed from the middle instead of rolling it up from the end.

"The point is, I didn't think it mattered what, precisely, Annie wanted to talk about—I just thought I was about to get the beginning footage for my newest documentary."

The camera zooms in towards Abed after a brief pause. "Annie, if you're watching this, I'm sorry about all that stuff, by the way," he adds as an afterthought.

* * *

"About you!" Annie exclaims in irritation. "And how you keep staring. At Troy." She clears her throat, suddenly aware of what she's saying and slightly more awkward for it. "I think we need to talk about how you keep staring at Troy."

"Okay, I may be poor at reading social cues, but even I can tell that this is a set up towards an awkward conversation," Abed says after a brief pause.

"Um. Yay?" Annie cheers sheepishly.

Abed wonders if it's not too late to call Britta up and ask if she wants to do an art film with him.

* * *

**ABED NADIR –ASPIRING FILMMAKER**

Abed stares at the camera for a while. "I give her props for waiting until the camera was rolling," he says at last.

A moment of silence goes by.

"Also, I'd like to add that I'm significantly less sorry now."

* * *

**ANNIE EDISON – MEDDLER**

"I wasn't trying to meddle, okay!" Annie exclaims from the dining table. "And, alright, it's not unusual for Abed to just... take a step back and observe the group as an outsider as much as he can whilst keeping his position as a person actually _in _the observed group. That's why... that's why I didn't notice it at first. But we live together, you know? And when you live with someone who takes every opportunity to stare at the other person you're living with whenever he can, you start to notice it. You can't help it.

"But I wasn't going to interfere; not at first. Not if he stopped. But Abed didn't, is the thing. He started to do it more and more often with this unreadable expression on his face and I..." Annie trails.

She takes a deep breath, looks around and then says, in a careful, lower tone, "When they clashed in The Great Pillow War of 2012... it was the most terrible and sad thing I had ever witnessed happen to the two of them. It... it was worse than when Troy found Pierce's mom's corpse. Worse than when Abed thought we were all in stop motion that one Christmas. I mean, even when the war unofficially ended, they continued fighting for _hours_ just because it meant they could spend a little more time together!

"All I wanted," she says softly. "Was for them to not have to go through that again."

Annie clears her throat. "That's why when Abed started this whole staring fiasco, I decided I'd do something; that I'd corner him, figure out what was wrong, and fix it. That's what I was prepared to do and I'm talking about a kind of preparedness that most people can't even _imagine_. I'm a prepared person. I even have graphs, statistics, and character references to support that statement. I'm not joking. Those bee-yotches are _color coded_." The camera cuts to footage of Annie putting together various kits. Annie adding pens into a spare pencil case for exams. Annie packing band-aids, gauze, and rubbing alcohol into a first-aid kit. Annie hanging a legend on her wall to indicate which highlighter color meant what in each subject. Annie taping a copy of the same legend in Troy's room. Annie attempting to sneak into the blanket fort with a third copy. Annie showing off her emergency mutant-gerbils-have-taken-over-the-city backpack.

"So when I say prepared? _I mean it_," Annie finishes with a fierce glare.

* * *

"Alright," Abed says determinedly, fiddling with the camera and angling it downward. Satisfied, he takes a seat on the rug and gestures to the space in front of him. "Let's do this."

"Here?" Annie asks unsure. "...On the floor?"

"Yeah," Abed shrugs while he absent mindedly fidgets with the cuff of his cardigan. "Problem?"

"No," Annie denies in a higher tone with a shake of her head. "No problem. We can do this on the floor if that's what you want."

"It's what I want," Abed confirms.

"Good. That's... good," Annie shoots back and sits on the floor, folding her legs beneath her elegantly. She shifts to get comfortable. Then shifts again. And shifts some more. "...I think I need a pillow for this," she admits exasperatedly.

"I can wait," Abed says patiently.

"Right, I'll just—" Quickly, Annie grabs a pillow from her room and throws it on the floor. "Okay," she says. "Let's—" Annie squirms again.

"You alright there, Annie?" Abed asks mildly.

"Peachy keen," Annie says through a smile. "Are you _sure_ you don't want to do this with chairs? Or maybe in the fort—"

"No."

"You said you forgave me for that time when I rearranged it without your permission!"

"I did forgive you. That doesn't mean you're allowed back in there quite yet."

* * *

**ABED NADIR – SOMEWHAT UNCOMFORTABLE BY THESE TURN OF EVENTS**

"When I found out what Annie wanted to talk about, I was torn," Abed admits.

"As a director, I could see the raw potential this film had. But as the subject? I didn't like where this was going. Not one bit.

"I mean, I know that Annie probably meant well. She always does. Unless she's caught in the moment and she's going for victory—then she usually just means to win. I blame Jeff for that.

"This though, this was Annie with our best interests at heart and that could only mean that things were about to get messy. And I'm not talking about the usual Annie-left-the-door-to-her-room-open-so-if-Troy-and-I-got-into-her-highlighter-packs-it's-fair-game messy. I'm talking Pierce-with-a-birthday-cake messy. Maybe even The-Great-Paintball-Assassin-War-of-2011 messy.

"I'm talking about Annie-gave-the-blanket-fort-an-extreme-bedroom-makeover-without-my-knowledge kind of messy," Abed says solemnly looking directly into the camera. "And I wasn't sure if I was ready for anything like that at all."

* * *

**ANNIE EDISON – SUPPOSEDLY FORGIVEN**

"Abed, you've really got to let the blanket fort thing go," Annie says with a shake of her head. "Actually, while we're on this subject, let go of the buttered noodles incident too. _I didn't know_."

* * *

"Oh, this isn't getting anywhere!" Annie cries, standing up and stamping her foot in frustration. "How many more times am I going to have to say sorry before you actually forgive me for the—"

"Already forgave you."

"—fort incident? Also, why don't _you_ ever apologize?! I _know_ it was you guys who ruined my last pack of highlighters—"

"We bought you three new packs. Didn't you see them? We left them on your vanity desk. They're multi-colored since we know how much you love color coding things."

"And why do you keep staring at Troy? Are you guys fighting? Please, _please_ tell me you're not mad at Troy aga—"

"It's because I'm in love with Troy and I'm trying to find a way to get over it. It's unexpectedly difficult."

"—in. Do you know how hard it is to appease the both of you when you're sulking and you've divided the apartment in half with masking tape?!" Annie finishes, chucking her pillow at Abed in her aggravation. Abed catches it before it can do any permanent damage.

"Sorry about that," Abed apologizes, sounding genuinely contrite. "Troy was right; the masking tape was a mistake purchase on my part. Won't happen again."

"Good because that was seriously no—wait, what did you say?"

"I shouldn't have bought the masking tape."

"I agree completely but that's not what I meant. You... you're in love with Troy?"

* * *

**ANNIE EDISON – SPEECHLESS. SORT OF.**

"So to reiterate, I'm a prepared person. " Annie points off to the side and opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it. Closes it. Pulls her hand back towards herself.

"Was not prepared for that."

* * *

"Yeah," Abed confirms calmly, idly tapping his index finger against the pillow he's pulled into his lap, leaving Annie sits back down, she still can't find a particularly comfortable position on the tile but she figures she can contemplate that later. "I'm actually pretty disappointed in myself," he confesses, focusing on the pillow.

Annie is mildly horrified. "Abed, what? _Why_? There's nothing wrong with—"

"I'm not particularly interested in filming a romantic comedy. They're okay but personally I feel that they're overdone, cliché, and modern films in the genre tend to be disappointing. Romantic comedies don't have _substance_. They're all smoke and no fire. Get it?"

"Not even a little, but hold off on that explanation. Abed," Annie says slowly, inching towards him. "You said you were trying to find a way to get over loving Troy."

"That's because I am."

"That doesn't seem like an appropriate romantic comedy plot."

Abed tilts his head. "The falling-for-the-best-friend-and-then-trying-to-not-act-on-those-feelings scenario isn't that abnormal but you're right; that part is tied more into the 'romantic' part of 'romantic comedy.'"

"It sounds like the makings of a tragedy," Annie says softly. "You're not even going to try for this? Like, at all?"

"What do you want me to do, Annie?" Abed asks tiredly. "You and I both know that even if I went for it, that isn't a story that ends with me and Troy settling down in some place with a white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and a dog."

"But it could!"

"No, it can't. I've run the simulations. Troy and Britta—"

"Don't you remember what I said about those simulations? That's just you projecting your anxieties again, Abed!"

"He really likes her, Annie," Abed says quietly, looking directly at her.

"Please," Annie snorts. "Troy, I'm sure, really likes _some_ parts of her but I'm telling you—"

"Annie," Abed interrupts. He waits until he's sure he has her full attention. "Maybe you're right. Maybe if Troy and Britta hooked up, it wouldn't work. Maybe you're wrong and they're on the brink of something amazing. Either way, that's something they'll work out on their own and I'm cool with that."

"Abed—"

"He's my oldest friend," Abed tells her with a smile but it's resigned and weary and _wrong_. "I just want to keep that."

"And you think that the only way you'll be able to do that is to tone down what you feel for him?" Annie asks incredulously as she stands up.

"Yes."

"I don't agree with that at all!" Annie snaps back at him.

"I didn't ask you to." Annie glares. Abed stares back.

Finally, Annie helps Abed up with a sigh. "Oh Abed..." she says sadly, pulling him into a hug. "We only get one take. Are you sure this is the way you want your film to go?"

"When you act out a scene, you can never tell how the finished picture is going to look. You have to wait until you've done enough scenes to put them all together. But yeah," he adds, hugging back. "I'm positive this is the way this story's supposed to go."

"I'm not convinced of that at all," Annie murmurs with a small shake of her head. "But let me help you anyways."

* * *

**ABED NADIR – CLICHÉ**

"See? What did I tell you," Abed says with a shake of his head. "Messy."

"_Well if you thought it was going to turn out that horribly, you didn't actually need to let me help you, you know!_" Annie calls off screen.

"Annie, you're not supposed to be listening to this," Abed calls back, looking to the side.

"_We're in an apartment and you're doing your thing in a __blanket fort__, which, might I add, is right next to my room. Where am I supposed to go where I won't be able to hear you?!_"

"I waited in the bathroom when you did yours," Abed offers with a shrug.

"_Ugh. Fine._" Abed sits and waits until the faint sound of a door clicking is heard.

"She's right though," he says, turning back to the camera. "I didn't have to let her help. So why did I then?" Abed looks down briefly and then back up to the lens.

"That's a potential spoiler alert so you'll just have to wait and find out," he says with a smile while doing a finger gun motion at the camera.

* * *

**ANNIE EDISON – CONFIDANT**

"Whatever Abed's envisioning, it's not going to happen. I won't _let _it happen. Unless he's picturing a happy ending. I support that," Annie declares determinedly. "Abed is weird and he relies way too much on his 'rendered imaginary dreamscapes'," Annie says, punctuating her words with air quotes. "And I'm pretty sure we see the world very differently but he's also kind and loyal and fun to be around. I mean, he sat in a room for _twenty-six_ hours just because we're friends.

"There's a solution for this problem where everyone involved gets to walk away happy.

"And believe me," the camera cuts to footage of Annie sharpening a pencil with a serious look and then lining it up with several pens, highlighters, and post-its. "I _will_ find it."

* * *

The apartment door swings opens and Troy walks in with a grocery bag in hand. "I'm back!" he calls out tiredly. "Hey, can one of you two explain to me how it's possible for me to love my parents and yet simultaneously want to strangle them? At least I don't have to visit oft—uh, hey guys. What's up?" he asks with a raised eyebrow when he turns around from locking the door to find his two roommates who are standing there stiffly.

"Troy!" Annie exclaims and she's smiling but it seems a little off. "Welcome back! Did you have a good time at your mom and dad's?"

"Good enough, I guess," Troy shrugs, putting the bag on the kitchen counter. "What were you two up to?"

"Not much. Abed and I were just—"

"Doing a little bonding," Abed cuts in smoothly.

"Bonding over what, exactly?" Troy asks, pausing to give them an assessing look before shrugging out of his windbreaker. "And why are you two acting so _weird_?"

"We're not acting weird!" Annie denies hastily and Troy would totally call her out on that but Abed chooses the exact same moment to say, "we're doing a film study together," and _that_ gets Troy's attention.

"A film study?" Annie asks him, whipping her head around to stare at Abed incredulously.

"You're right," Abed concedes with a tilt of his head. "It would be more correct to say we're doing a genre study."

"What genre?" Troy inquires interested. "Does it have to do with space? No wait, does it have to do with butt stuff? Space butt stuff? Man! Why do you guys always do cool things when I'm not with you? That's not cool. That should be... I don't know, forbidden or something. Ooh let's make it a new rule in the Roommate Contract!"

"Troy! Don't be ridiculous! We're not going to make a rule saying that Abed and I can't have fun when you're not around to join in!"

"When you say it like that it _does_ sound ridiculous," Troy says.

"_Thank_ yo—"

"What _I'm_ saying is that we should make a rule saying you and Abed can't be awesome together when I'm not around to witness it."

"That's _essentially the same thing_!"

"No, it isn't."

* * *

**TROY BARNES – ABED'S BEST FRIEND**

"Annie is... cool," Troy says seriously, leaning forward from his spot on Abed's bed in the blanket fort and splaying both hands in front of him. "Like really cool. She knows things about irons and kool-aid stains and infections... which is awesome! Because me and Abed... aren't really great with all those things.

"I mean, I still don't understand the whole purpose of the iron. Who _cares_ if your clothes are wrinkled? Wouldn't it be cooler if the iron were an autobot or something? Oooh! Or you could use it to make Eggo waffles if the toaster ever broke! Wouldn't it be awesome if the iron could do both? Damn. Then it could save the world _and_ help make part of a delicious breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner. Eggo waffles are really an all meal kind of food, don't let Shirley tell you otherwise."

Troy waits for a moment then blinks and clears his throat.

"Anyway, the point is, that Annie's cool. It's just that when she and Abed are by themselves, weird things happen. I mean, one time, I left them alone for _three hours_. When I checked in, everything was fine and they were playing Inspector Spacetime; next thing I know, Abed's talking about cutting down his dreamatorium time by 18 hours and taking up yoga." Troy looks bewilderedly at the camera. "How did that even happen? _It's still wrinkling my brain._" Troy says with wide eyes.

"So yeah, I wanted to put in a rule where Annie and Abed couldn't do much when they were alone together because _insane things happen when they are_. I mean what if Annie chloroforms someone and only Abed is around to come up with a plan on what to do about it? I don't have enough money to post bail for both of them!"

Troy pauses, then admits, "Okay and maybe the idea mostly stemmed from the fact that I don't want to risk missing out on Abed breaking into the landlord's apartment as Batman again. That was pretty kick_ass_."

* * *

**ANNIE EDISON – CHLOROFORMIST IN THE MAKING**

"Where's Britta to talk about my civil rights and how Troy's trying to impede on them when I need her?" Annie frowns.

"I don't know why Troy's so insistent about keeping Abed and I apart but I'm willing to bet it either has to do with breaking into the landlord's apartment or chloroform. If it's the latter, for the last time I _don't have a problem_. I just keep a bottle of it in my room and knapsack and in the medicine cabinet because the stuff is surprisingly useful and because Abed gave it to me as a gift. It would be rude to just dump it out, you know?"

* * *

**ABED NADIR – APPARENT CHLOROFORM GIFTER**

"For the record, I only gave her the one bottle."

* * *

"Yes it is!"

"Is not!"

"Is _too_!"

"Guys, _guys_!" Abed interrupts, moving between the two to break it up. "You're both being unreasonable. There's only one way to settle this."

"Oh come off it, Abed!" Annie snaps. "We're not resolving this with a game of rock-paper-scissors-laser-Spock."

"Yeah!" Troy agrees.

"You're right," Abed agrees calmly. "We can't settle something like this in such a childish manner. This definitely calls for a game of hunter-Barbie-bear. Agreed?"

"Meh," Troy and Annie said unenthusiastically.

"_Agreed_?" Abed repeats a little louder.

"_Meh,_" they reiterate.

* * *

**ABED NADIR – REFEREE**

"Hunter-Barbie-bear is like an Australian version of rock-paper-scissors. A far cooler version of it that has duelling elements and requires you to do appropriate poses," Abed explains. He pauses. "...At least I think it's Australian."

The camera zooms in on Abed. "The Korean guy who taught me the game had a very convincing Australian accent," he says with a shrug.

* * *

**TROY BARNES – VETERAN COMPETITOR**

"In terms of difficulty, I would say that hunter-Barbie-bear is harder than rock-paper-scissors-laser-Spock but easier than advanced rock-paper-scissors. Advanced rock-paper-scissors is like hunter-Barbie-bear but at the end you have to pose as a rock, paper, or scissors and that's _hard_, you know?!"

Troy pauses and then nods his head up and down while saying admiringly, "...Unless you're Garrett. That guy has _moves_."

* * *

"...I'm just going to take that as complacent agreement. Ready?" Abed asks while slipping into a referee voice, looking at both of them. "Okay, you know the rules. Shake." Neither Annie nor Troy makes a move towards the other. "Come on guys, we all gotta live together so let's not make this any harder than it needs to be. _Shake_."

"You're going _down_," Troy glares at Annie, gripping her hand and moving it mechanically up and down.

"I suggest you walk away now Barnes, because in a few minutes I am going to _crush_ you," Annie informs him confidentially, shaking back firmly.

"When I win, that rule is going onto The Contract in red crayon." Annie dislikes any amendments to The Roommate Contract being done in anything other than blue ink. She _abhors_ any amendments done in red crayon because she thinks it's childish and unprofessional even though red is the coolest crayon in the box.

"Fine," Annie humphs. "But when I win, I get the right to just say 'because' as an answer whenever you ask a question about this study I'm doing with Abed." Abed feels his eyebrows shoot up while his eyes dart between Troy and Annie, but otherwise refrains from saying anything.

"Fine," Troy grits out and then drops Annie's hand.

"Then the terms are agreed," Abed jumps in. "If the duellers would kindly turn around." Annie and Troy whirled around so that they were standing back to back. "There will be only the one match unless otherwise stated. Each participant is to take three paces each. And I mean small ones Troy; small enough that you don't run into my scale model. Again."

"I said I was sorry about that!" Troy replies, shooting Abed a look. "I mean, you _do_ realize that you're going to have to let that go eventually, don't you?"

"He's kind of really bad at that," Annie chimes in.

"Quiet in the peanut gallery," Abed commands. "If both parties are ready, then here we go. One," he counts. Both Annie and Troy take a step forward. "Two." Step. "Three." Step. A tense silence and then, "Turn!"

Troy whirls around and moves his hands to mimic holding some kind of shotgun. "Hunter!" he cries.

From the other side of the room, Annie turns, sticks her right hand on her hip, blows a kiss with her left, and winks while leaning forwards slightly. "Barbie," she purrs.

"Barbie beats hunter," Abed declares throwing his arm up and sticking his hand out towards Annie. "Annie wins!"

"Dammit!" Troy cries while Annie jumps up excitedly.

"Heck yes!" she cheers, throwing a fist into the air briefly.

"Good game you two," Abed comments.

"Why does Barbie beat hunter anyway? How does that even make sense?!" Troy cries in frustration, throwing both hands up in the air, flopping down into a chair.

"Because they're diabolical. Ever seen _Small Soldiers_? With a militaristic mindset those things could go for world domination," Abed tells him, pointing a finger to emphasize his point and stealing the seat next to him.

"Oh yeah..." Troy says. Abed nods. Annie looks vaguely confused at the movie reference but takes the other seat next to Troy anyway. "I really want to play with some GI Joes right now," Troy announces into the sudden silence.

"Me too," Abed says. "But we don't have any in the apartment."

"We don't because we're all over the age of _twenty_," Annie throws in, rolling her eyes.

"So? I don't think there's an age limit on GI Joes," Troy replies, looking confused.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure the boxes say they're meant for people four and up," Abed says.

"Exactly. And since we," Troy motions to the three of them. "Are four and up—"

"That's... highly debateable," Annie says.

"Not really," Abed comments.

"—GI Joes are totally fair game."

"We buying some next time we go to Walmart?" Abed asks Troy.

"Definitely," Troy grins, holding his hand out for Abed to slap against twice. "Hey, while we're there, can we buy some of those plastic army dudes from Toy Story there too?"

"Wanna give them parachutes and toss them off the library roof?"

"_Get out of my brain."_

"Guys!" Annie interrupts. "You can't just throw toy soldiers off the roof! What if you hit someone?"

"Relax Annie," Troy says with a roll of his eyes. "We're throwing plastic soldiers, not money."

"Yeah, we've learned that people aren't too happy to be hit with coins since the penny dropping incident of '10," Abed says.

"I still don't understand why you were throwing pennies off the roof."

"Okay, first of all, we weren't _throwing_, we were _dropping_. There's a difference. Secondly we wanted to test if people could instinctively dodge a shower of coins."

"_Why_?"

"Because when you go to a strip club you're supposed to throw dollar bills at the strippers, right?"

"Ew! Why would I know that?" Annie shrieks.

"You are," Abed confirms.

"But in Canada they don't have dollar bills; they use coins because they're _weird_," Troy explains.

"I think it's one of their campaigns against obesity. More change means a heavier wallet to lug around," Abed says.

"Ugh. Sounds like a lot of work," Annie replies.

"No kidding," Abed agrees.

"Anyway, so me and Abed were thinking; if we went to a strip club in Canada would we have to throw coins at them and if so, _how are they dodging all of those_?" Troy finishes seriously. Abed nods beside him.

Annie looks at the two of them in horror. "Ew! Guys! How did you even get onto that topic?"

Abed and Troy exchange a look. "Well Troy was wondering—"

"Don't tell me! I don't actually want to know!"

"Okay," Abed says with a shrug.

"...Are you guys going to make a lot of parachutes out of different materials?" Annie asks.

Abed and Troy glance at each other. "If we did that, we could say we were doing it for science," Abed muses.

"...And if we say it's for science it just makes what we're doing seem _that much cooler_!" Troy says excitedly. "Woah. We are never allowed to stop being this awesome. We should buy some tonight so we can start throwing them tomorrow!"

"Guys!" Annie cuts in before Abed can say anything. "Do you really want to spend your first day back to school throwing little plastic _toys_ off the library roof?"

"Well... yeah. Don't you?" Troy asks, puzzled.

"We could get you a stopwatch and you can record the time it takes for them to reach the ground. Or the top of someone's head," Abed offers.

Annie wavers. "Well... if it's for science..." Annie grins. "Lunch time experiment? Lunch time experiment? Alright guys, we are _doing this_."

"Cool," Abed says in a satisfied tone. "Cool, cool, cool." A comfortable silence falls upon the trio.

"So what genre are you guys studying anyways?" Troy asks absentmindedly, tipping his chair back so he can stare at the ceiling.

Annie and Abed share a look where Annie looks between Troy and Abed and does little motions with her head while Abed mostly just stares back at her. "Romance," Abed says before Annie can say anything. Troy slams his chair back down.

"Romance?" he asks surprised.

"Yeah," Abed continues. "Annie's trying to convince me that romantic comedies are better than romantic tragedies."

"But tragedies are so sad!" Troy exclaims.

"Aren't they?" Annie asks, looking at Abed significantly.

"Say what you want, but _Titanic_ was way more memorable than _Pretty Woman_."

"Lies!" Annie accuses with an offended scoff.

"Actually I think that was mostly true," Troy points out.

"Whatever," Annie says. "You'll help me, won't you Troy?"

"Annie—" Abed says in alarm.

"Sure," Troy shrugs. "I don't really get the whole romance thing but if Abed's in, I'm in."

"Great," Annie claps. "This is gonna be so much fun!"

* * *

**ABED NADIR – EVEN MORE UNCOMFORTABLE BY THESE TURN OF EVENTS**

"I had no idea what Annie was doing. At that point, I was left assuming Annie had come up with a miraculous plan based on her womanly intuition."

* * *

**ANNIE EDISON –** **MASTERMIND**

"Uh..." she says, looking up at the ceiling. "It's less that I had a plan in mind and more that I had no plan."

There's a distinctive pause. "Yay...?" she says with a hesitant smile.

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER ONE.**

* * *

**END TAG**

* * *

_Knock knock knock. _

"Troy! Annie found out about the toothpaste so I'm on ironing duty. Got anything you need wrinkle free?" Abed asks from the other side of Troy's door.

"Will it work on my brain?" Troy replies after a beat.

"I don't think irons work like that, no."

"Then no thanks. I'm good."

"'kay." There's the distinctive sound of someone walking away.

For a while Troy just lies on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, and absently humming "Daybreak".

"Wait! What if the iron is a _decepticon_," he says in alarm, sitting up straight. "That would explain why it burnt a hole through my shirt and why everyone says we're not supposed to leave them unattended! Abed. _Abed! We need to get rid of the iron-!_"


	2. Chapter 2

Author's notes: once again, I'd like to give a shout out to **Phoeny **(**Suzakusama** on ff . net) for an awesome beta job. You get one of these: *thumbs up*

* * *

"_Troy and Abed in the mooooorning~!_"

"Just tuning in?" Abed asks from a bar stool in the study room. "Excellent timing. Today on the show we have our very own Annie Edison, who was just about to launch into a conveniently timed recap. Annie?"

The camera turns slightly to focus more on Annie, who's sitting on the far left chair, dressed in a lavender blouse and grey pencil skirt, smiling genially. "Thanks Abed," she says cheerily. "First of all, I just have to mention that it's _great_ to be back on the show guys- you know how much I love it," she proclaims in delight.

"Well we certainly appreciate you coming out," Troy replies graciously. To accentuate the point, both he and Abed raise their mugs towards her in a toasting gesture. "So tell us: what's been going on? Give us the run down on the situation."

"With pleasure, Troy. Last time, we found out that I got _three_ new packs of highlight_-ers_," Annie reports dutifully, holding three fingers up and moving them in a horizontal circle to emphasize her point.

"Nice," Abed comments, taking a sip from his mug.

"Thanks," Annie beams. "We also learned – very reluctantly, in my case – that Canadian strippers are mysterious beings."

"So mysterious," Troy responds with a puzzled shake of his head.

"Mm," Abed agrees. "We'll definitely be doing a cross border trip to investigate. Right, Troy?"

"Without question," Troy concurs.

"_And most importantly_," Annie diverts with a grimace. "We learned that G.I. Joes are for people four and up."

"Ooh. You know what that means, don't you Troy?"

"I certainly do, buddy. I certainly do. To all of you three and under, I want you to know that we are so, so sorry," Troy says sympathetically.

"Yeah, that's pretty much _the_ downside to being under four right there," Abed commiserates.

"Tell me about it," Troy says with a shake of his head. "So how about it, Annie? What's next on our highlight reel?"

"Actually," Annie replies. "I think that was the last of them. Highlighters, strippers, and G.I. Joes. If I recall correctly – and I'm me so, you know, I _always _do – those were all the key points."

"Well there you have it then, ladies and gentlemen," Abed concludes amiably. "Until next time—"

"_Troy and Abed in the mooooorning~!_"

* * *

The three of them grin happily in the direction of the camera for a beat and then, because the show has ended and something in the air has dispelled, shift from being Troy and Abed, talk show hosts, and Annie Edison, guest star, back to being Troy, Abed, and Annie, students of Greendale community college who arrived on campus just a bit too early.

"Good show guys," Annie applauds.

"Yeah. I'm just glad I didn't need to bust out the—" Troy starts to say.

"Bust out the _what,_ Troy?" Annie interrupts with a slightly too large smile.

"The nonexistent bail money I'm working on saving up, is what I was about to say. Because I _definitely_ wasn't about to bring up the 'technical difficulties' sign or how the only time I've ever had to use it was when you were on the show," Troy says in a rush. "On a _completely_ unrelated note, when did you become so terrifying?" he questions giving Annie an assessing look.

"Oh, she's always been like this," Abed informs Troy. "But I think it really started to shine through in the first half of The Paintball Assassin War of 2011. You know, the one with the western motif?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," Annie says faux-innocently.

"Sure you do," Abed tells her with a raised eyebrow, oblivious to her tone. "It was the one with that network TV good looking cowboy."

"The one with the big guns," Annie recalls, eyes lighting up.

"That's the one," Abed confirms with a point of his finger.

"Um, am I the only one who remembers that that dude was _the enemy_?" Troy asks, breaking up their fond reminiscing.

"A _handsome blond_ enemy," Annie reminds him with a sigh. "Who had tickets to Coldplay."

"Coldplay?" Troy gasps longingly.

"My thoughts exactly," Annie nods. "Next time we should—"

"Good morning Greendale!" the dean announces over the P.A. system joyfully. "Just wanted to wish all you returning students a warm welcome back. And for all of you who are new, welcome to Greendale! I'm Craig Pelton, the dean here at Greendale community college. I'm very happy to have you all here, and to make sure you all feel the extent of my delight, I'll be making welcome announcements over the P.A. system every hour for the next four hours! Look forward to it and have a wonderful 7:52 AM!"

"Seven-fifty—is that the time?" Troy startles.

"No. If you're going by the dean's watch, it's seven fifty-two. I have... 7:53," Abed informs him calmly. He tilts his head in consideration. "We can't both be right. What do you think, Constable?" he asks, sliding smoothly into an English accent. "A tear in the very fabric of space perhaps?"

"Well, Inspector, I dare say..." Troy begins to answer in an intrigued tone. "I mean, wait no, I can't do this right now; sorry, buddy, but I just don't have the time."

"Or is it simply that you don't have the... space?" Abed asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Okay, I see what you did there," Troy says seriously before breaking into a grin. "Aw, who am I kidding. That will never stop being all kinds of awesome."

"Indubitably," Abed acknowledges with a nod.

"What's the hurry, Troy?" Annie asks curiously. "I thought you said your first class didn't start until 8:30?"

"It doesn't," Troy confirms, jumping off the stool and grabbing his backpack. "But the AC school has some weird ritual thing they're saying I have to attend starting at 8."

"I thought you made it a rule that the air-conditioning repair school has to act like a regular school?" Abed asks in puzzlement with a slight tilt of his head.

"I did but when I change too much stuff up too fast, all the guys there get this weird look on their faces like I stole all their puppies and then hid them in the apartment above ours or something."

"You mean they look like you kicked their puppies?" Annie asks in confusion because _what_?

"No, Annie, I mean they look like I stole all their puppies and hid them in the apartment above ours. Why would I kick their puppies? Who _does_ that? What kind of evil being would—wait; was it that troll from Pierce's house?" Troy asks horrified. "I knew that thing was evil but to kick puppies... does it steal left socks from washing machines too? I bet it does. That's _it_. Come on Abed, we're going to Pierce's house and—"

"_Not doing anything_. Troy, 'kicking puppies' is an expression. I didn't actually mean—"

"That's an expression?" Troy asks in surprise. "Oh, thank God. I mean it's terrible and I don't really understand why anyone would come up with such a thing but I thought—"

"You're going to be late," Abed reminds Troy, less because he wants him to leave and more because he knows that despite his complaints, Troy is trying his best for the AC school and he wants to support that. And also because he wants to get permission to tour the school and personally find out if it's actually as crazy as Troy is promising it is. Preferably with his camera at hand.

"Ah, right," Troy says. "Thanks, man." Just before he leaves he pulls Annie into a quick hug and then does the same to Abed. "I'll see you guys at lunch!"

Annie blinks. "...Was Troy always that... affectionate?" she asks Abed curiously, carefully not mentioning how Abed watches Troy jog away.

"Sort of," Abed says, tearing his eyes away from the now empty hallway to look at Annie. "But it's something that's really picked up after returning from the AC school. It scared him when he thought he wouldn't be able to hang out with us anymore."

"I think it's pretty safe to say that it scared all of us," Annie murmurs, giving Abed a look that he misses because he's too busy grabbing his messenger bag from where he's left it.

* * *

**ANNIE EDISON – OBSERVER**

"What do I remember when Troy left?"Annie asks the camera. She's seated daintily in the study room table with her fingers interlaced and resting on the table. "I remember this greasy, balding man wearing this non-descript grey uniform sauntering into our apartment like some sort of... of... mob boss. I remember Shirley sobbing and Pierce giving terrible advice and Jeff making sure Troy knew not to listen to it."

Annie wrinkles her nose. "I remember Britta giving Troy a lock of her hair," she says looking at the camera with a pained expression that clearly asks _why?_

"But the most striking thing I remember about that day?" she asks after her expression has cleared.

"...It would have to be the look on Abed's face as Troy walked out."

* * *

**ABED NADIR – TROY'S BEST FRIEND**

"What do I remember about Troy leaving?" Abed asks the camera. He's sitting straight up on a chair in the study room, tapping a pencil against the table. "I remember hearing how sorry Troy sounded when he whispered to me," he says slowly.

"I remember how heavy my hand felt against my chest when we did our handshake for what was supposed to be the last time." Abed pauses for a long time, looking at the camera with a far off look in his eyes.

"...I remember watching Troy's back as he walked away and thinking, '_Oh. So this is how it feels to have your world end._'"

* * *

"...I'd say it's all in our best interests to avoid having a repeat experience," Abed comments wisely.

"Yeah," Annie agrees softly.

"So... what do you plan to do now?" Abed asks, drumming his fingers against his messenger bag strap and looking at Annie expectantly.

"Well originally, my plan was to call up the others to get some advice about this whole _situation_ and then we could go from there but..."

* * *

**PHONING: **PIERCE HAWTHORNE

"Eh-bed has a problem? Um, duh-_doi_, Annie. Talk about being streets behind," Pierce says into his phone, shaking his head in disappointment. "Don't worry though. With my experience as a hypnotist, I know just what to do to help—

"Hello? Annie? ...Huh," Pierce says, staring at his receiver in perplexity. "She must have walked into an area with _really_ bad cell reception. Almost seemed like she hung up on me."

* * *

**PHONING: **BRITTA PERRY

"I _know_ he has a problem, Annie," Britta says into her Totorola exasperatedly. "That's why I'm his psychiatrist. And as a psych major, my advice to you is to—

"Uh, hello? Annie?" Britta frowns down at her cell. "Okay, Annie either hung up on me or this stupid thing dropped the call." Britta looks at her slightly smoking phone reflectively.

"Maybe I should invest in an OnyxBerry," she says with a sigh.

* * *

**PHONING**: SHIRLEY BENNETT

"Oh An_-nie_," Shirley coos, holding the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she mixes chocolate chip cookie batter in a bowl. "We all know that Abed's a unique snowflake. I mean, we were all there for that session with that fake psychiatrist." Shirley puts down the bowl on her counter and shifts the phone to her other ear.

"Of course that doesn't mean I'm not willing to help. I can give you the name of my church and then the two of you can—" Shirley blinks. "Hello? Annie?" There's a lengthy pause while she listens for any kind of response. "Hm. Must've forgotten to pay the phone bill," she tsks, putting the phone away and reaching for her bowl. "Because I _know_ that girl wouldn't dare do something so rude as to hang up on me."

* * *

**PHONING: **JEFF WINGER

"Abed has a problem?" Jeff asks sceptically. He's stretched out on his couch with his phone pressed against his ear. "So? No offense to Abed, but saying that he has a problem is like saying that Pierce is elderly and racist; it's blatantly obvious, and – more importantly – not really my problem until someone else makes it mine.

"Or," Jeff says, knitting his eyebrows together as something occurs to him. He swings his feet to the side and brings himself into an upright position. "And I'm directing this specifically at you and Britta, until Abed—or anyone, for that matter—brings out the bone cutter. What the _hell_ guys? If you see someone carrying around a tool with any kind of revolving blade _do not just sit there_. For the love of all that is good and me-having-both-arms-during-tank-top-season, _do something_," Jeff says firmly, hanging up before Annie can respond.

* * *

Abed gives her a look. "Yeah, not my best plan," Annie winces.

* * *

**ANNIE EDISON – HELPER**

"I love our friends but Abed has no idea how lucky he is that _I'm_ the one who's helping him with this," Annie says with a shake of her head.

* * *

**ABED NADIR – STUDENT OF HUMAN CHARACTER **

"Annie actually would have been my last choice out of our study group members," he confesses easily.

"Britta would have been my first choice since, while she might actually _try_ to help, Britta has as little control over me as I do. That means that in the end, I'd still be able to do things my way which is not something I see as a bad thing," Abed explains.

"For similar reasons, Pierce and Shirley would be next. I mean Pierce would probably alternate between all sorts of gay comments and obnoxious romantic anecdotes and Shirley would bring me to church a lot but ultimately, I'd still be able to do things how I wanted if I went to either of them.

"Jeff wouldn't want to get involved and, best case scenario, actually doesn't. Worst case, he _does_ and then things will go horribly wrong. Of course, Jeff being Jeff, he'll wrap things up with a Winger speech to make amends and that's always something to look forward to." Abed presses his lips together in thought. "Also, this would be a good chance for him to grow more as a person which I've been told is a good thing.

"Annie, though. Annie does things like kiss Jeff to win debates and send letters for three weeks to a doll company because she wants to throw a baby shower that respects the ethnic diversity of both potential fathers. Can you imagine what she would do if she got a crazy idea into her head like getting me to confess to Troy?" Abed asks giving the camera a wide-eyed look. "Because I ran those simulations in the dreamtorium and they all confirmed that in a situation where I need help, it would be in my best interests if I went to Annie last."

Abed pauses. "Of course, they also confirmed I'd get the most film worthy story with Annie, so I guess there's that."

* * *

"Actually," Abed clarifies. "I wanted to know what you were going to do _now_ since I'm going to go to class."

"Oh!" Annie exclaims. "Oh. Right. That makes sense. I was actually going to see what information I could find about this 'Problems and Possible Solutions' class I have after lunch. It's the only elective that fit with my schedule that I could actually enroll in thanks to our stupid registration system. I know the Dean is trying not to violate any student rights but drawing names out of a hat for registration times is only _marginally_ better than throwing darts at the student list and picking that way."

"'Problems and Possible Solutions,'" Abed repeats. "So it's a problem solving class?"

"I guess? Maybe? When I tried to look it up in the registry, all it said was, 'For students who need it. Not to be taken by students who have taken, or are currently enrolled in, LADDERS.'"

"Why ladders?" Abed asks with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know," Annie responds honestly.

"Interesting," Abed comments.

"I guess..." Annie agrees disgruntled. Personally, she'd prefer to know more about the course itself but supposes that's what she'll find out today. "Hey, did you want to come with me and check it out? It starts at 1 in the South Hall."

"...Sure," Abed says after mulling it over. "Might be a good source of inspiration for a space noir screenplay I'm working on."

"Great!" Annie grins excitedly. "Then it's a plan."

"Cool," Abed says. "Cool cool cool."

* * *

"All I'm saying," Troy laments as he and Jeff walk down the hall after lunch, "is that nobody is going to see it coming."

"And _I'm_ saying that I completely agree with you," Jeff says, not looking up from his phone. "Mostly because the idea that mutated gerbils will one day take over the city—or at the very least, Greendale campus—is stupid."

"But it's not!" Troy cries. "It's thinking like that—"

"That reminds me that I, at least, still have a small connection to reality, despite having spent the past three years here at Greendale," Jeff cuts in smoothly. "It's medal worthy, I know."

"That'll get you eaten!" Troy finishes, ignoring Jeff. "Or worse, _mutated gerbilfied_. Think about it, Jeff. Is that really something you want to risk?"

"Well Troy," Jeff says, pausing in his texting to give Troy a look. "If there's something I definitely don't want to risk, it's having to think about this."

"Hey guys!" Annie greets cheerfully from where she's standing outside a classroom. Beside her, Abed waves in acknowledgment. "What's up?"

"Hey," Jeff nods as he and Troy stop to join the duo. "Troy here was just explaining his—completely irrational—mutant gerbil fears. _Again_."

"Again?" Annie echoes, looking at Troy incredulously. "Okay, this has _got_ to stop. It was cute back when all I had to do was design emergency backpacks—"

"They _are_ pretty cool backpacks," Abed comments. Jeff raises his eyebrow because _really_? Abed shrugs back because _heck yeah, they are_.

"I know. Mine's purple," Troy grins. Jeff just rolls his eyes and goes back to his phone.

* * *

**JEFF WINGER – COLOR COORDINATED**

"Plebeian," Jeff scoffs. "Oxford blue would have been a _much_ better colour choice."

The camera pans down a little to focus on the Oxford blue button down Jeff is currently wearing, courtesy of The Gap.

* * *

"And I was fine with you making Abed and I carry around chocolate—"

"Well yeah, of course you were. I mean who _doesn't_ want to be carrying around little pieces of creamy-sugary goodness?" Troy asks looking at Annie like _she's_ the weird one. "I'm just glad you were willing to let Abed carry around chocolate again."

"Troy! It's not like I would make Abed stop carrying chocolate around just because of one _completely violating_ incident. Unlike _some people_, I'm capable of letting things go," Annie scoffs.

* * *

**ANNIE EDISON – LADY WITH LADY PROBLEMS**

"We," Annie says, dragging out the word. "May have gotten an affidavit for Abed to sign saying he wouldn't carry chocolate for the sole purpose of having something to offer when us girls were having our 'on' days.

"And what was with that anyway?" she cries. "Carrying around chocolate like... like we needed to be appeased with ritual truffles or caramel filled eggs or something!"

_"If it bugged you so much why not just stop him from carrying around chocolate in the first place?" _Jeff yells from the side.

"Jeff!" Annie shouts back appalled, looking off to the side. "What are you _doing_ here?"

"_Why do you _think _I'm here? Who do you think wrote the damn affidavit?_"

"Whatever, just go away!"

"_FINE. Just don't come running to me the next time you need a legal document!"_

Annie makes a face, craning her neck to watch him through the glass as he storms down the hallway. "Okay," she whispers furiously whipping her head back to face the camera. "So maybe—and I am _never_ going to admit this to Abed—_maybe_ during those four days of unspeakable horror and pain, I don't mind a sweet, rich, smooth, melt-in-your mouth sacrifice. Or twelve." Annie pauses. "Or forty.

"Look, if a guy wants to give me sugary confections to distract me from the torture device that is my uterus, I'm not exactly going to tell him to stop," she says, giving the camera a look and crossing her arms defiantly.

* * *

"Don't worry Annie," Troy says reassuringly. "Pierce will definitely forgive you."

Abed nods in agreement. "You are his favorite after all. And Shirley will forgive you if only because it's the Christian thing to do."

"I still don't get what was up with them!" Annie cries bewilderedly. "All I asked was 'so who's Billy Joel anyway?'!"

"I don't know but he must be important," Troy says pensively. "Maybe he's one of those less important holiday figures. Like the Easter bunny or Captain America."

"'Captain America'...?" Annie echoes. "Troy, he's not a holiday figure."

"Um, sure he is, dummy. Otherwise, why would they make his birthday a holiday?" Troy argues.

"We do _not_ celebrate the Fourth of July because Captain America was born that day," Annie argues back.

"We don't? Then what's so special about the Fourth of July?" Troy asks in confusion.

"It's our independence day!"

"Independence from what? Wait, was the country taken over by—"

"Alright, while I'd normally be content to let you explain to Troy how it's thanks to our forefathers that we don't have to experience the horrors of the metric system, adding the letter 'u' to words that _clearly_ don't need it, or having an unhealthy amount of love for the taste of dried leaves in hot water, I'm going to have to stop you here momentarily because this apparent age gap between you three and I makes me feel _old_ and that's just criminal. Let me begin to repair this heinous situation by asking you all this: do you know who Snooki is?" Jeff interrupts without taking a break from typing out a response.

"Duh," Troy says with a roll of his eyes.

"Um, duh-_doi_ Jeff," Annie replies, affronted.

"Yeah," Abed confirms. "But only through various media outlets. I don't understand the purpose of reality television; I mean if I wanted to watch reality, I wouldn't bother with cable."

"And that right there? Is one of the reasons why none of you—or anyone from your generation for that matter—should be forgiven. _Ever_. The other reason being, very obviously, that you people _actually believe _in a mutant gerbil attack."

"Because it's _going to happen_," Troy stresses. "I don't know when and I don't know why but it _will_ happen. And when it does..." Troy trails.

"If you even _think _about dropping to your knees and crying about the imaginary gerbils' cruel ways, I _swear_ I'll abandon you and report you to campus security for disturbing the peace," Jeff warns without looking up.

"He's bluffing," Abed whispers to Troy. "About the 'reporting us' part anyways. Thanks to Chang, we don't have any campus security."

"Wasn't bluffing about the 'abandoning you' part."

"Who _cares_ about any of that?" Annie interrupts in irritation. "What matters is that a gerbil crisis that's not entirely guaranteed to happen is the reason I've had to talk Abed out of spending all his money on a _boat_. And _believe me_, that was no easy feat."

"I still say that it would have paid for itself," Abed says with a sad shake of his head.

"I know buddy," Troy coos, patting his arm consolingly.

"Oh for the love of—"Jeff exclaims, looking up to glare at them. "Abed, no. There is no way a boat would have paid for itself because we are in Colorado and Colorado is a _land locked state_," Jeff points out meaningfully.

"There are lakes," Abed counters. "Am I the only one who remembers our St. Patrick's Day adventure? Or the time we went fishing and it turns out there was a shark—"

"Oh, I remember the shark," Troy says with wide eyes, pressing a hand against his left side.

"Relax," Jeff says, rolling his eyes. "It was just a flesh wound." At his words, Troy's eyebrows climb impossibly high, Abed's eyes widen fractionally, and Annie gasps.

"Okay, now I know you're only saying that because you're white so everybody _knows_ you're not going to be the first one to die when crazy stuff happens—"

"It's true," Abed agrees. Annie nods while levelling Jeff with her best unimpressed stare.

"—but how about the next time there's a shark, _you_ get attacked by it and _then_ we'll see if you still think it's 'just a flesh wound,'" Troy finishes, unamused.

"Okay, first of all, you guys have been watching _way_ too many movies. Let me remind you that this is real life and in real life, _the black man does not always die_ _first_."

"Troy was the first one to die in The Paintball Assassin Game of 2010," Abed chimes in.

"Shut up Abed," Jeff responds seamlessly. "Secondly, let's say Annie _didn't_ manage to talk Abed out of it; let's say he got that boat."

"Ooh. Could we name it 'Buoys in the Hood'?" Troy asks Abed eagerly.

"Sure," he says and holds his hand out for a handshake.

"Guys! Isn't that a little bit sexist?" Annie asks, affronted.

"Who are you supposed to be, Britta?" Jeff scoffs. "It's a pun, Annie; let it go."

"It's not about the pun! It's about the principal—"

"Really?" Jeff asks her with a raised eyebrow. "Do you _really_ want to repeat the events of The Pen Incident?"

"We are _not_ doing another bottle episode," Abed interrupts firmly at the same time Troy says, "Hold up; we're about to miss _another_ puppy parade?"

All three boys look at Annie.

"Alright fine," Annie harrumphs. "I'll let this go this time. But the three of you should _really _consider some boat names that are accommodating to all genders."

"Look, it's an imaginary boat we can't actually—you know what? Fine. We're gonna name it. So you have this boat—"

"The 'Buoys in the Hood.'"

"Yeah, sure, whatever. You have the 'Buoys in the Hood' and she's—"

"Oh, so the boat's a _she_, huh?" Annie points out with a huff. "Spoken like a true sexist."

"Boats are always female, Annie, look it up but _fine, _have it your way. So we have this gender neutral boat and it's docked or stored or something and mutant gerbils attack—"

"Takeover," Troy corrects.

"_Takeover_ the city. Now what? Even if, by some miracle, you manage to make it to wherever your boat is, I can guarantee you that it won't be any help to you in the city."

"You have a point," Abed admits reluctantly.

"I _always_ have a point," Jeff replies exasperatedly. "And this time, I even have a valid one. All I'm saying is that if you were going to buy an emergency vehicle, you would've been better off buying an ATV like Troy."

"_I knew it_!" Troy cries. "Do you hear that, Annie? Why would you make me sell Sheila? She would have saved lives!"

"Oh, so your ATV was a girl too?"

"_Not the point_, Annie!"

"Excuse me," a slight Asian woman says before Annie can answer.

"Woah," Troy startles while Jeff, Annie, and Abed all give the woman surprised looks. "Who are you? And where did you come from?" He squints down at her. "...Are those crickets?"

"A professor," she answers evenly. "I just came from the Dean's office, and yes, they are crickets. My mother fancies it'll give me luck but I have a much better use for them. Do you mind? I believe you four happen to be blocking the way to my classroom."

"Oh! Sorry about that," Annie apologizes as they shuffle away.

"No worries," she shrugs, striding past. The four of them stare after her.

"...There is _no way_ that kid's a professor. She looks like she's 16!" Jeff whispers to them furiously.

"You're right. We may have another Chang situation on our hands," Abed comments intrigued, staring at the door.

"Oh God, I hope not," Annie shudders. "Taking Spanish with him was stressful enough, thank you very much. And besides I'm _sure_ after the whole Chang incident the Dean's learned to check people's credentials. Probably."

"Wait," Troy says. "You're _in_ her class? What is it? How are crickets involved?"

"'Problems and Possible Solutions.' Don't ask me what it's about because all I know about it is that you're not allowed to take it if you've taken, or are currently taking, ladders. For all I know, crickets are quintessential to the problem solving process." Annie pauses as she processes that idea. "Ew. I really hope not."

"Ladders?" Jeff echoes.

"Yeah, I don't know what's up with that either," Annie replies crossing her arms.

"This calls for further investigation," Abed says and shoots Troy a look. "You in?"

"Always," Troy replies without hesitation. "Let's go."

"Guys!" Annie cries as they walk into the classroom. "You can't just- oh never mind. I'm sure it won't matter. Last I checked this class still had six open spots left. You coming too?"

"Might as well," Jeff shrugs. "I want to see how crazy this chick is. I don't think I can handle two Changs running around campus."

"Oh, that'd be _horrible_. They'd go around playing their stupid keytars and popping out of random vents and I just..." Annie takes a deep breath to keep from hyperventilating. "I just don't think Greendale can handle a Chanduo running around campus like that."

"I _know_ it can't. I mean they're still busy repairing the wall between the women's washroom and the Dean's office from when the first one tried to take over the school."

"...At least if she tries to pull together an adolescent militia we'll know how to stop it?"

"That's not exactly a skill I thought I'd learn when I applied for Greendale. Then again," Jeff acknowledges. "I never thought I'd actually _learn_ any skills when I applied for Greendale, which is why I applied here in the first place."

"Jeff!" Annie warns sharply.

"What? You of all people should appreciate how Greendale was able to exceed my, admittedly low, expectations."

"That's right, Jeff. I'm just _teeming_ with pride, because our school managed to do what it was _originally founded to do_."

"Wasn't Greendale originally an animal rendering plant?" Jeff asks Annie, giving her an I'm-on-to-you look.

Annie scowls. "Well, of course you'd know _that_."

"Please," Jeff scoffs. "You really think I'm the kind of guy who'd apply at a school without looking into it a little first? It's like you don't know me at all."

"Maybe you're right. After all, _I_ pegged you as the kind of guy who'd apply to a school where he thought he'd be able to talk his professor buddy into giving him every answer to every test he'd have to write over the next four years," Annie replies dryly.

"Okay, I might have deserved that. Well played, m'lady. Well played," he congratulates approvingly. "Shall we, then?"

"Let's, m'lord," she smiles, threading her arm through his offered one.

* * *

"Good afternoon," the woman greets from where she's perched on the edge of her desk. The crickets chirp sullenly in their enclosure beside her. "My name is Dr. Lillian Summers. Normally, I'd be teaching at a university but for reasons that have nothing to do with a sudden change of heart and everything to do with my pair of nines losing out to Eustice's pair of Aces, I'll be here for at least a semester teaching for free because Eustice Whitman is a complete and utter bastard. You are all welcome to quote me on that," she says flatly to the class.

"Now, before I get into the class syllabus, I want to make something very clear: this class doesn't exist for me to solve your problems for you. Screw that. If I wanted a job where I had to listen to people's problems and then be expected to do something about it, I would've been a cop. Everybody understand? Do _not_, for the love of all that is good and aesthetically-pleasing-people-flaunting-their-physically-fit-bodies-during-tank-top-season, dump your problems on me and then ask me what to do. Get it? Good. Question?"

"So you're not going to help us... at all?" Annie asks sceptically.

"I never said that. You are most certainly welcome to ask me for advice _after _you've shown an ounce of gumption by at least half-assedly attempting to solve your own problem. If I'm in a good mood I may even tell you something that's helpful. If I'm in a _particularly_ good mood, or in a state of delirium, I may even tell you something that's both helpful and actually pertains to your situation. But enough about me and my lack of interest in taking on your problems; let's talk about what we're doing this semester. As you can see—what? What's wrong? You act like you've never seen a syllabus," Summers says in irritation as students poke at their papers in confusion.

"We haven't," Annie informs her, looking over the syllabus admiringly. "Our professors usually just introduce themselves and then talk about their subject on the first day."

"Holy crap," Summers blinks in surprise. "I've overestimated my lowest standards. Fan-tastic. Alright then, this, ladies and gentlemen, is a syllabus. If you lose it, you can go to lillian-summers . livejournal . com and find copies of it online. Its purpose is to serve as an outline of what I'm going to be teaching and also, to kill a tree. To be honest, in a course like this, the schedule will probably be pretty damn flexible because 14 weeks to teach problem solving is ridiculous."

"You only have 13 weeks to teach us," Abed comments.

"Really?" she asks, as she tries to recall when the last day of classes is. "Oh. Well, that's alright, it's an easy enough fix. Next week, we'll be jumping right into 'The right attitude: the importance of perseverance.' Oh hey, that works out nicely. I wasn't looking forward to covering 'The importance of problem solving.'"

"This," Annie whispers to Jeff, stroking the page lovingly. "Is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. The existence of these things should be _mandatory_."

"Annie," Jeff says, looking over his own paper. "You're being creepy and also, you're missing something major here. Professor Summers!" Jeff exclaims, getting her attention. "I just wanted to clarify this 'Participation – 15%'part right here; I get marks _just for showing up_?"

"Does it say 'attendance – 15%'?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. "No, it doesn't. You have to show up _and_ give me half-assed responses to the questions every once in a while and _then_ you'll get marks."

"Can I get that in writing," Jeff demands.

"You already have it in writing," she says looking at the syllabus in his hand pointedly.

"Okay, you're right," Jeff tells Annie. "These things should be mandatory."

"We have a project worth _50% of our grade_?" Troy asks incredulously, eyebrows climbing.

"Yeah, about that," Summers says. "I'll go into more detail later but basically the project involves you or a group of people solving a problem you came up with. When it comes to presenting your solutions or how you came to those solutions, it's been _highly suggested_ that I get you guys to do at least one diorama, which is why anyone who hands in anything _other_ than a diorama will get at least a B."

"Seriously?!" Jeff exclaims excitedly at the same time Annie cries, "That's not fair! How does that make any sense?"

"Well the official reasoning behind that rule is that one of the greatest assets to problem solving is creativity. If you're trying to solve a problem just like everyone else, you'll probably get the same answers. That's great if that's what you want but not so much if you were looking for something different," Summers explains. "My unofficial reasoning is that if I piss off the Dean and get fired, I can go back to not having to teach for _free_."

"You haven't tried to take over the school with an adolescent militia and you haven't attempted to strangle me in front of the entire class," Jeff states bluntly. "If the best you can do is bringing a few crickets to class and _not_ assigning us a fourth grade project, then I can guarantee that you're not going to get fired any time soon."

"We'll see," Summers shrugs with a devious glint in her eyes. "Any other questions or comments? No? Then get out of here- I have a dozen crickets to release into the school's vents."

* * *

**END CHAPTER TWO.**

* * *

**END TAG**

* * *

"3... 2... 1... Drop," Abed commands and Troy drops the little plastic army man over the edge of the rooftop. Troy whistles as they watch it fall and then flinches as it lands none too gently on the top of Pierce's head.

"Uh-oh," Troy interrupts.

"That's not good," Abed says.

"How many times do I have to tell you guys to stop throwing things at me like I'm some damn stripper?" Pierce hollers, shaking a fist up at them.

Troy and Abed share a look. "Just pretend like you're asleep!" Troy advises hastily, dropping to the ground and closing his eyes. Abed quickly follows suite.

Pierce squints down at the little toy in his hand and unfolds the paper bill they'd made into a parachute. "And if I was you'd better believe I'd be worth more than just a _dollar_!"


End file.
